Fly
by labrinthine
Summary: Dead birds don't fly. Siddeley centric. Character death. pretty short one-shot.


He stares up at the beautiful blue expanse across his vision. What a beautiful day out today! A cloudless sky, a shining sun, and a beautiful pasture filled with flowers... or, it had been. Beautiful lilacs were squashed underneath tons of metal, and tulips framed the wreckage like a beautiful picture frame holding an ugly picture. He was still strapped to his seat, but it was no longer attached to the plane. in the rough explosion it had been uprooted and slammed to the ground.

his vision goes blurry and dark for a moment, he hold on a bit longer. He has to have hope that Finn saw the plane go down... that he might be able to get him in time.

Dark, twisted metal reaches up into the sky like an odd modern art sculpture. pieces lean on each others and smoke permeates the air. He always knew the risks of being a pilot, his uncle had explained in detail everything inside of a plane and how easily it could be compromised... but his uncle had been a passenger pilot, so he hadn't even thought to warn Siddeley about the devastating damage a missile could do. Knocking out half of his plane and he had spiraled down, down... until he hit the ground with a mighty crash and a burst of flame and smoke.

he wished he could... well, he wished a lot of things at that moment. He wished he could get up, have a drink, survive... but it seemed like nobody was coming. He didn't blame Finn for not seeing, he really didn't. Finn had thousands of things to balance and fight his way through, he couldn't keep his eyes on Siddeley constantly! But Siddeley sure wished he had looked just a little longer as he retreated, but he hadn't...

His heart beat banged around in his head and he suddenly felt incredibly sad. Siddeley didn't blame Finn, but Finn would blame himself.

The world burst into fire and flame and bright white light and Siddeley was sure that this explosion would kill him, but even though it felt like he was split apart his consciousness stayed. the heat died down.

he had wondered when the second propeller would finally give in, but he hadn't expected it to be so violent. warm liquid pooled beneath him and stained his seat. he didn't dare look down. He had been impaled on the initial destruction of the plane, and had kept a very still composure to reduce blood loss, but the jostling of the second exposure had ripped more skin and bone. red painted his blue blazer purple, and he kept staring at the sky.

the sun beat down on him harshly. it was like he was home, almost. heat burning him and playing in the yard. asking his uncle what it was like to fly and watching as he mapped out the intricate mechanisms of the metal monsters. dragons, his father had called them, metal dragons bigger than he could imagine and he had been fascinated then, he always was.

and then there were the quiet nights underneath the stars, where his mother gently taught him to constellations and the story behind each one. he remembers her blonde hair and green eyes and smiling at him warmly and prompting him on which one that is. he remembers warm cinnamon and honey and naps in the lawn with his mothers soft voice lulling him to sleep. he looks at the sky.

Birds are circling.

he envied the beautiful curvature of their wings, and the seemingly effortless way they caught the wind and soared. he had once worked with a group of scientists and engineers in and experiment to make wings that worked for a human, it had ultimately been a failure, but Siddeley had always had hope that one day...

the sky turns grey and Siddley allows his eyes to close.

the blood pooling around him seems to have lost its heat. he breathes deeply, and the pain in his stomach is gone.

he feels cool grass on his back, and his mothers arms around him.

he falls asleep to the sound of soft singing.

* * *

The funeral isn't beautiful. Finn knows that no funerals are, but it feels like it should be different for Siddeley. It should be big and grand and loud, like Siddeley. no... it's quiet and sad. Holley and him attend, and an old man weathered by age sits in the very last pew in the church. Finn knows it's finn's only family member left, but he wished he hadn't come. he didn't seem to care.

but maybe Finn just cared to much.

* * *

**Sad sad sadly sadder sad!**


End file.
